Hell in a Bucket

I go away for ten days and the stock market goes to shit and Brad and Angelina break up.

And nobody even texted me?! Last time I leave you all alone with the keys to the universe…

You Won’t Have Cee to Kick Around for Awhile…

Unless they come up with a TuscanyIsTalking or MetrobloggingLucca or VornoVillageBloggers.

Don’t hate the playa.  Hate the game.

So for a fortnight, it’s ciao for now.

Hey, Bob Clement!

Did you feel a little twinge this morning?  Kinda like a tiny field mouse kicking you in the nut sack?

That was me voting early.  And not for your dull, visionless, wanna-be-mayor-because-it’s supposed-to-be-my-next-job, taking up two minutes of my dinnertime newscast, quasi-liberal, totally beholding to Belle Meade money ass.

OK, I’ll Admit It…

I’ve become one of these people.

Donations for therapy and funny-looking clothing are now being accepted.

A Retraction of Sorts

After spending a night in Tunica, I may have to back off on the whole “ghetto is not an adjective” pronouncement.

Tunica-still voted “#1 Place to Spend your FEMA Money!”

Friday Declaration

If I were king of the world, I would officially ban the use of “ghetto” as an adjective and “illegal” as a noun.

That is all.  My minions may now return to their existence of digging up turnips.

Who Did I Piss Off?

Mail call edition:

I got two pieces of mail on Friday.

1.)    A letter from the IRS

2.)    A jury summons

My mailman must really hate me.